


Assassin

by 221b_hound



Series: Guardians AU [2]
Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Belly Dancing, Bodyguard Hux, Kylo Amidala, M/M, Planet Naboo (Star Wars), Protective Hux, Protective Kylo Ren, alternative universe, assassination attempt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-05
Updated: 2016-06-05
Packaged: 2018-07-12 09:09:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,354
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7095880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/221b_hound/pseuds/221b_hound
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kylo is required to attend the Royal Masque, an annual dance to celebrate unity on Naboo. Hux may only attend as his personal guard. But there are whispers that Kylo and his mother may be the target of an assassin, and Kylo has more than one secret he's keeping from his mother. A ball, dancing, and an assassination attempt: and all of Kylo's secrets are about to be revealed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Assassin

Whether or not protocol demanded Kylo Naberrie’s presence at the Royal Masque, his mother did, and so he went.

The annual Gungan-Human celebration was hardly as spectacular as the Festival of Light, but still held nostalgic value for the inhabitants of Theed. It had once marked a rite where Gungan and Humans had met to negotiate rights and boundaries, the masks signifying how they came together as Naboo. Symbolism had a lovely way of covering up uncomfortable realities and former bloodshed.

General Organa, once Senator, once Princess, once daughter of a queen and a boy who became a monster, attended the Masque to keep alive her mother’s memory, if for nobody but herself. Leia and her son were the last remnants of the house of Naberrie – of Queen Amidala – and she was strategic about reminding people of this fact. It put distance between her and Ben and the legacy of Darth Vader. Their presence at the Masque wasn’t whim, but long term survival tactics.

Where Kylo Naberrie went, however, so went his personal guard, Hux. Hux’s own dark legacy was another problem entirely, but not one that entered into this particular party.

On the morning of the Masque, Hux joined his charge in the courtyard early, before Kylo had taken breakfast. Millicent, still a slender kitten, was curled up asleep under a small flowering bush. She would have looked sweeter if the ground hadn't been littered with the remains of the last flying bug she’d dismembered.

Kylo was undertaking his daily _kata,_ his face and bare chest glistening with perspiration. His long, dark hair was knotted loosely at the crown of his head, tendrils of it floating about his neck. He was dressed in loose, flowing trousers, deep red, fastened at waist and ankle with ties, and he moved as though in a solemn dance. Hux watched from the ivy-twined arch that separated the sunroom from the courtyard and tried to find words to describe what he saw.

_He flows like honey. Like a stream around the rocks. He’s like a tree that sways in the wind. If music had form, it would be this. He breathes with the world. How does he make me think of words like this? I never knew honey and streams and trees and music before Naboo, and now they are all in him._

Kylo’s dance flowed to stillness and he turned to smile at Hux.

“You should join me next time. It’s good exercise.”

“I’m more a marksman than a…” Hux didn’t know how to name what Kylo was.

“Jedi?”

“No. That’s not what I mean.”

Kylo shrugged as he reached for a towel to wipe his face and body. “I’m no Jedi, but I learned from them. It’s good discipline, though. Good training. There are still those who make threats against my mother.”

“And you too.”

“As a way to get to my mother. I’m not worth that much in myself.” Kylo, padding barefoot across the courtyard, stopped to kiss Hux’s thin-lipped frown. “Except to you.”

“But you’re everything to me,” admitted Hux, still terse.

Kylo beamed at him. He caressed Hux’s cheek, and kissed him again until Hux’s mouth softened under his. He laughed softly and drew away as Hux made to embrace him.

“I’m sweaty and rank.”

Hux made a gruff sound deep in his throat and surged forward to wrap Kylo in his arms. He licked the salt perspiration from Kylo’s neck and kissed him hard.

 _*The image in your mind, of me. Like a tree, you thought*_ Kylo was amused.

_I want to climb you like one._

Hux wrapped his arms around Kylo’s shoulders, leapt to wrap his legs around Kylo’s hips. Kylo’s hands went under Hux’s thighs to hold him up and he walked with his delightful burden into the sunroom; beyond it into Kylo’s bedroom. The whole distance they kissed, licked, sucked, caressed, moaned softly into each other’s mouths, or panted laughing breaths.

“Like a _tree_ ,” Hux huffed softly against Kylo’s lips.

In the privacy of the bedroom, Kylo set Hux down. Hux immediately slipped his hands down the back of Kylo’s loose training trousers to squeeze handfuls of princely backside. He proceeded to strip Kylo, and mouth at every sweaty part of him, suckling and smearing himself in the scent of _honey-streams-trees-music-everything_. The brown chest plate of his uniform went one way, the mustard-yellow tunic another, the pieces of his duty discarded about them until Hux was as naked and as aroused as his willing beloved, and they tumbled onto the bed.

Kylo was a lot sweatier and stickier before they were done, and Hux too. Afterwards, they bathed each other in the refresher, then shared the breakfast laid out for them in the sunroom.

Their day was simple enough – Kylo had few duties and was mostly left to his own devices. Until Hux had become his personal guard, his black moods were notorious and the household had learned to stay clear of him unless called for. Today, the young men played two rounds of Novacrown until, bored, they abandoned it in favour of Kylo fetching two _jō_ staffs for an introduction to the fighting sticks.

Later in the afternoon, the stick-fighting lesson led to more grappling in bed, and another shower. Lunch was brought up to the balcony while they were out of sight; they ate while looking over Theed, decorated in lights and streamers for the evening’s masque.

After the meal, Kylo propped himself up on pillows on the sunroom daybed and read Gungan war poetry, which was also love poetry, to Hux, who lay with his head in Kylo’s lap. His armour and boots were set aside on the floor, his tunic half unbuttoned, and Kylo played with Hux’s hair as he read. Millicent curled up on Hux’s chest and purred her approval of the arrangement.

When Kylo’s alarm chimed mid-afternoon, Hux rose and reassembled his uniform. Kylo opened his door to the dresser who would prepare him for the masque itself. Hux stood guard while Kylo applied his make-up and was assisted into his gown. Millicent was banished to the courtyard for her repeated attempts to climb the gown.

Eventually, impatient, Kylo waved away the official assistance. “That’s enough, Melo. I’ll do the braids myself.” By the time he remembered to say thank you, Melo was half out the door. Kylo sighed, but then stood tall for Hux to appraise the results of their efforts.

Kylo was adorned in one of his more elaborate gowns – smoky grey chiffon over indigo satin, both spangled with tiny diamantes twinkling silver under the lights, with the occasional flash of garnet-red and honey-gold. His snug, soft boots were black at the toe, morphing to grey at the knee; the full length satin gloves darkening from grey at the tips to charcoal across his biceps. His face was painted formal white, marked in gold and deep red on cheek, chin, brow and under each eye. A charcoal veil draped under his chin, attached to the black circlet around his head at the gold clasps beside his ears. His earrings were heavy gold disks with a tiny ruby embedded in the centre.

Hux ate him up with a heated gaze, which Kylo found sufficiently approving.

“You’ll help with the braids?” he asked.

Hux became sardonic. “I’m your hairdresser too, am I?”

“Unless you want me to call Melo back.”

“Oh no need. I’m getting the hang of it now.”

Kylo arranged himself on a stool so that Hux could sit behind him. He gathered Kylo’s long hair in his hands and splayed it out along Kylo’s back, before adjusting the veil attached to the circlet.

“Hides my big ears,” Kylo said, self-deprecatingly as Hux helped to fashion his long hair into a thick braid, reaching half way down his back. Hux was weaving gold threads through the length of it.

“I love your big ears,” murmured Hux, lipping at the tips of them. Kylo was patient with Hux’s slow, methodical work. Hux was trained to the blasters and marching formation, not making his lover’s hair pretty. But both took discipline, and Hux loved the feeling of his Ky’s hair in his fingers.

“You don’t have to come,” said Kylo, “It’ll be so dull. Especially since I can’t dance with you.”

Personal guards did not dance with princes. Especially when the prince’s mother did not know that her son and his guard were regularly naked, sweaty and orgasming together.

“Dance _for_ me then,” said Hux, whispering a kiss over the back of Kylo’s neck. “I love to watch you move.”

“All right,” said Kylo softly.

“There. Done.” Hux held up a small mirror so Kylo could see the result. The braid was not elaborate, but the gold filaments in the black gave him understated grace that sat well with the elaborate gown and headpiece.

Kylo’s grin of satisfaction became impish. All the day’s training reminded him of the Jedi past he had abandoned; and also that he and his mother still had enemies.

Hux saw the look and, instead of being a good and sensible personal guard and dissuading Kylo from the decision he had reached, Hux only said, “I’ll get it for you.”

Because he was a good and sensible personal guard, and he knew that the Royal Guard had increased security around the palace grounds where the Royal Masque was to be held. Where the Royal Guard was cautious, Hux was inclined to suspicion.

Hux opened the secret chamber in the courtyard fountain and withdrew the weapon Kylo had fashioned for himself.

“It won’t explode will it? That kyber crystal has a crack in it. I told you that trader was selling you a dud.”

“It was that or nothing. I’ve created vents for the excess power, though. It holds.”

Kylo clipped the lightsaber to his belt and concealed it in the folds of chiffon. He wasn’t Jedi, no. He wasn’t Sith either. He didn’t know what he was, but he’d picked up on Hux’s concern about the evening, and one thing Kylo Naberrie was _not_ – and that was defenceless.

*

At the Royal Masque, it was tradition to dance with many partners, of any and all species and genders. The Masque was, after all, a symbolic celebration of amity and accord. Tall and graceful Kylo danced all the formal dances required of him, and hated every step. Most of his partners were polite enough, some of them even danced well enough, and only a few came close to tripping on the trailing hem of his gown. But even with the friendliest ones, the ones who didn’t automatically distrust him, a question hovered between them. He felt their curiosity through the Force.

_This is the boy who refused Jedi training; this is Darth Vader’s grandson. There is something not quite right in him, they say; he has visions, they say. His own father left him behind. His mother keeps him close by to guard against what he might become._

The _frisson_ of all their apprehension, founded on rumour, misinformation, supposition and just a _soupçon_ of truth, grated on his nerves.

Kylo sought out his guard – his darling, fearless Hux – and found the man positioned by the entrance. Hux stood at stiff attention, hands clasped at his back, as his gaze raked the room for trouble. His red hair was combed severely back and his mouth was a thin, forbidding line.

When they were alone, Hux’s lips tended easily to smiles, his lovely hair to falling forward over his eyes, his eyes to crinkle with laughter. Here, you’d never know Hux knew how to smile at all. His face was pinched and sour, where it wasn’t haughty and cold. That was the face Hux had worn when first they met. It hadn’t been a mask, then. Here and now, it was armour.

A new piece of music swelled from the orchestra up on the first floor gallery, overlooking the palace ballroom.

_*Hux*_

Hux’s gaze immediately snapped towards his. Their eyes met. Held.

Kylo began to dance for his darling. His arms lifted in a graceful arc, the curve of them bracketing his face as he looked coquettishly down. Kylo’s torso swayed sinuously, the wave of motion transmitting from his shoulders, through his spine, down to his hips, to his thighs and calves and feet. Partnerless, he danced for his partner.

Hux watched, his face still armoured but his heart open, open, open. Kylo moved with almost the same _honey-stream-tree-music_ dance of the _kata_ , but the purpose now pure rapture. He made beautiful shapes with his beautiful body.

Guests on the dance floor noticed Kylo was dancing alone; some watched, fascinated. One or two tried to dance with him but Kylo swayed, a curvet, a subtle slide, away, and he danced only for Hux.

The guests began to dance around him, in couples mainly; but singly or in pairs, they all saw Kylo and wondered at Senator Organa’s strange son.

Kylo must have known, and Kylo didn’t care. He danced and kept on dancing.

 _*For you, for you, for you*_ with the rhythm of the music.

_You are exquisite, Ky. You are the brightest, best being here._

Kylo smiled and his body moved liked poetry.

Hux’s eyes were almost entirely filled with Kylo. He caught the rest of the room at the edges, though. He _liked_ that everyone was watching Kylo too. Then he registered that Senator Organa seemed surprised that her son could dance so voluptuously… surprised and then thoughtful. Hux thought she looked his way, but on second glance, no, she was dancing with that Gungan general. Though she seemed distracted by movement across the far side of the ballroom.

 _Yes,_ Hux thought. _Yes. Something is not right. Something is not at all right._

Not everyone had eyes for Kylo, or the dance floor. Not all movement was dance. Something was off. Something was…

…furtive.

Hux moved and Leia Organa moved and Kylo Naberrie moved all at the same time, as though orchestrated, all converging on the wrongness of the people running against the flow of dancers. The woman – small, delicate, face like murder – drew a slender weapon, palm-sized, from the folds of her clothing as she ran straight towards Kylo. The younger man with her was also armed, his expression fearful as he split away from his companion. They came at Kylo in a pincer movement.

Leia Organa intercepted the man, dodging away from the Gungan who tried to protect her. The Senator, once a princess, once a rebel, once a general, did not _need_ protection. She used her training and experience well, propelling into the attacker, using her enemy’s weight and momentum to pitch the stranger over her shoulder and hard onto the dance floor.

By then, Hux was between murder-face and Kylo.

Murder-face screamed and fired, and that was when Hux realised that Kylo was not her target.

 _He_ was.

Behind him, Kylo roared – and the bolt of energy that should have hit Hux full in the face was suspended in the air. Fizzing. Crackling.

Hux raised his own blaster; he fired, just as a second bolt shot from the assassin’s weapon.

A sizzling bar of red fire sliced rapidly through the air between Hux and the would-be killer, sending the first suspended bolt of energy into the ceiling. Kylo swung his lightsaber again, intercepting the second, which burned into the floor. Hux’s shot slammed into the woman’s chest, only to be dissipated by her body armour, visible now through the hole burned in her tunic.

“For Xan Lanier!” she yelled, firing again. “Death to the Clan of Hux!”

Kylo stood between Hux and the woman now, a towering mountain of rage. He easily deflected the last bolt with an elegant twist of the lightsaber in his hands, red fire dancing up the length of the blade and out either side of the vents he’d made to counter the instability of the flawed crystal within.

With the cloudy grey chiffon of his gown floating about him, caught up in the static electricity flowing from his body, Kylo stood like a warrior between his love and his enemy.

“Ky, move aside, she’ll kill you…” Hux closed a hand over Kylo’s arm. The energy shifting about Kylo’s body stung his fingers, but he didn’t let go.

“Brendol Hux murdered my brother,” the woman snarled, and she began to squeeze the trigger.

Kylo flicked his gloved wrist, extending a beckoning hand; his fingers twitched and the woman’s weapon flew from her hand into the crowd.

Then Kylo’s fingers curled into a claw and the woman rose into the air, toes barely touching the floor. Her hands flew to her throat and she choked for air.

“You would threaten my Hux.” Kylo spoke as though it were a calm conversation, casual. He didn’t even raise his voice. “I don’t think so.”

“Please,” she gasped, hardly able to form the words, scrabbling at her throat as though she could pry loose the fingers that were not there. “I-I-I”

“Murderer,” said Kylo softly. He raised her a little further into the air. Her feet kicked. Her face turned red.

And every person of import or influence on Naboo was there in the royal ballroom to see him do it.

“Kylo. No.” Senator Organa, her own prisoner delivered into the hands of the palace guard, strode into her son’s line of sight. “Stop it. It’s over.”

“She would murder Hux as though he were his father. Where’s the justice in that?”

“None,” Leia agreed, “But she failed. Let her go.”

“To try again?” His voice was tremulous now. “She nearly killed him.”

Hux stroked Kylos’ arm. “I’m all right, Kylo. I’m here.”

“She nearly killed you.” Fear filled his features. Grief, too, for what he’d almost lost.

Leia tried another approach. “Ben, put her down.”

“Not Ben,” Kylo snapped. “I’m not him anymore.” A tear welled at the corner of his eye. “She tried to kill my Hux.”

“Ky,” murmured Hux, stepping close to Kylo, despite the sharp electric shocks he could feel along his body. He pressed close to Kylo’s back and slid his hand down Kylo’s bicep to his elbow, down his forearm to his wrist. Over the fist.

 “I’m here, Ky. I’m fine. I’m here, love.” In front of all these people, including Leia Organa, Hux pressed a kiss to Kylo’s neck. “Let the woman go. Her life isn’t worth your disgrace. She didn’t hurt me. Please, Ky. For me.”

With an anguished sob, Kylo opened his fist – the woman fell to the floor, only to have the palace guard descend upon her – and he stood trembling and panting in exhaustion and reaction. His lightsaber sputtered ferociously in the near silence. Kylo extinguished the blade and held the weapon out to Hux.

Hux took it, attached it to his own belt, and held out his hand. “Ky…”

Kylo turned to him, folded down into Hux’s embrace, clung while Hux held him tightly.

“We have to get him out of here,” Leia muttered fiercely into Hux’s ear, and between them they took Kylo off the floor and away from all those stares. They fetched up behind heavy curtains in an alcove where vases of flowers stood tall and fragrant.

“Ben.”

Kylo wouldn’t respond.  He held to Hux, his face pressed to Hux’s shoulder. His make-up smeared all over Hux’s uniform and across his face.

“Kylo, look at me.”

Kylo looked at his mother. The red markings had blurred and blended so it looked like he bore a ragged scar from brow to cheek across his eye.

Leia patted his face; unhooked the veil from the circlet and ran her fingers through his hair. “It’s all right, Kylo. Everything’s going to be fine.”

“How?”

“We’ll find a way. Sergeant Hux?”

Hux, who had been stroking Kylo’s back, trying to soothe him, risked his first direct look at the Senator.

“Kylo needs something strong to settle his nerves. Please fetch him a brandy.”

Hux stared at her. Swallowed. Did not let go of Kylo. The armoured face he used to wear would not attach itself to his mouth or his eyes.

“Now, please Sergeant Hux. Quickly. We’ll be here.”

“Ma’am.”

Hux hated to draw away from Kylo. He pressed a kiss to Kylo’s forehead, heedless of the smudge of white and red paint against his mouth. “I’ll be right back. I promise. I promise you.” He took Kylo’s hand in his and squeezed it hard, then kissed Kylo’s fingers through the gloves. “I promise.”

Then he slipped out between the curtains.

Kylo stood with head bowed, hands clenched against his stomach.

“It’s all right, Kylo.” Leia stroked his hair again, her fingers running over the braid. “You did what had to be done.”

Kylo inhaled shakily. “Aren’t you going to ask where I got the lightsaber? Aren’t you going to ask about my ability to use the Force?”

“You made the lightsaber,” she said calmly, “Though I can’t imagine why.”

“For protection,” he said, anger mingled with the despair.

“You have Sergeant Hux for that.”

“And who would have protected him? Nobody.” His head jerked up then. “You sent him out there…”

“The room is secure. He’s safe.”

“How do you _know_?”

“You can sense him, can’t you?”

Kylo blinked at her. “Yes,” he said at last.

Leia’s eyes were kind as she looked at him. “You think I don’t notice these things. But you’re my son. Of course I notice.”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“You’re a terrible liar. Just like your father. And like him, you think you’re a good one.” She tugged lightly on his braid, a teasing gesture she’d made since he was little. “I know you miss him. He did what he thought was right.”

“He killed Snoke and ran.”

“To protect you. Us.”

“So you say.”

“Your father loves you.”

“Right.” Sceptical. “Like he loves _you._ ”

Leia shrugged ruefully. “Love isn’t always enough. Loving someone isn’t the same as being able to live with them. Your father and I are very different. We fought constantly, I know. But I miss him. Every day. I love him. He’s a scoundrel, for all the good he’s done, and I love that too, even when it’s driving me crazy. He tried to be respectable and we both hated it. We aren’t good together. But Hux is good for you.”

Back to that. Kylo wiped his face on the sleeve of his gown. “He is,” he agreed, and still managed to sound defiant, as though she’d voiced an objection. “Despite his parentage.”

“Does he make you happy?”

“Yes.”

“Then it doesn’t matter who his father is. But Ben, there’s only so much I can do to help. I know sending you to Luke didn’t work; I know how afraid you are of the power inside you. You need to learn more self-control.” She patted his hair again, and his cheek. “I think he helps you with that.”

“He does.” Kylo’s voice was very small.

“Does he love you too?”

“He says he does.”

She kissed the top of his head. “And so he should.”

Suddenly, Kylo hugged her – making himself small like when he was a boy, folding down his rangy height to fit against her tiny frame. He hadn’t done that in years.

Leia held him close and kissed his hair. Han used to joke that their tall, gangly son was half Wookie. Chewbacca would roar a laugh that was terrifying to anyone who didn’t know him. He’d carry little Ben around on his shoulders and call him That Hairless Wookie-Boy, a wailing, joyful kind of howl. Han’s face always lit up at that. Wookie-Boy, he’d say, ruffling Ben’s hair.

They’d been so happy, then.

The curtains parted and Hux slipped into the alcove, only to stand there awkwardly with the bottle of brandy and the glass. He poured a splash and shoved it into Kylo’s hands.

Kylo lifted his head, threw the brandy down in a gulp, then coughed on the burn. He smiled at Hux, unaware of how his smeared make-up made him seem such a wreck.

Leia, on the other hand, fixed Hux with a stern glare. “Do you love my son, Sergeant Hux?”

Hux raised his chin and met her penetrating gaze full on. “You know I do, Ma’am.”

She smiled, because she liked that Hux was no fool. “And he makes you happy?”

Hux softened at the question, especially when Kylo took his hand.

“I never really understood that word, before you sent me to serve him,” he confessed. “He takes weight from me that I didn’t know I carried. I thought everything in the universe was pain, and then Kylo made me laugh.”

Hux gazed at Kylo like he was a saviour, and Kylo looked at Hux like he was the embodiment of the Light, and Leia wondered if that is how the world was supposed to work. These two troubled young men found light in each other. She and Han were like fire and steel. They helped make each other strong, but to be their full natures, they so often had to be themselves _separately_. Their son seemed to personify their marriage – so much steel and fire in him, but it didn’t always sit easily. Too hot. Perhaps Hux was the element he needed to find balance. Someone to cool the fire, temper the steel.

“Then my blessings on you both, even though you don’t need them.” She reached up to lay gentle fingers on Hux’s cheek; and then she was all business again. “As for Lanier’s sister, she’ll be dealt with.”

Hux shifted restlessly. “My father arranged for her brother to be murdered. Part of that whole Commandant’s Cadets insanity. They hate me for a reason.”

“They hate _him_ for a reason. You’re not accountable for his sins. If children have to be responsible for their parents’ evil, there’d be no forgiving me, or Luke either. Lanier’s rage is understandable; her target is not. You don’t need to worry about it now. She and her son are in custody. The authorities deal with it from here.” The latter was as firmly directed to Kylo as to Hux. “Go home. Sergeant Hux, I’d prefer it if you’d stay at Kylo’s villa for the duration, instead of reporting to quarters. I’ll advise your commanding officer. Stay out of sight for a few days. I’m sure you can find some way to entertain yourselves.”

Hux felt his skin flush hot; Kylo’s strange throttled snort showed that he was probably the more mortified of the two.

Royal guards helped to escort them away from prying eyes to a transporter back to the villa. They probably stared too, but Kylo couldn’t care. Only Hux mattered and Hux, as was his habit when in public, was hiding behind an armour of discipline and hauteur.

At the villa, Millicent the murder kitten was playing with a beetle. Well, ‘playing’ was putting a nice spin on it.

They left her to her nature and stripped for their third shower of the day. Hux placed the lightsaber that had saved his life on the table by Kylo’s bed. He helped Kylo to disrobe, and shed his own make-up stained uniform as well.

They stood naked together in the refresher, holding each other rather than bathing.

Kylo nudged the tip of his nose against Hux’s cheek and gazed at him. “You ran between us.”

“Of course I did.”

_*You thought she was trying to kill **me**.*_

_I’d have killed her if she had. I suppose that’s bad, but I don’t care._

Hux kissed him, but Kylo twitched away.

_What’s wrong?_

_*Aren’t you afraid of me?*_

“Why would I ever be afraid of you? You wouldn’t hurt me.”

“No. Never. Never, never, never.”

“And I would never be afraid of you. Besides, I grew up with the Child Butcher of Arkanis. I’m notoriously difficult to frighten.”

“I can be a weapon, Hux,” Kylo whispered gruffly. “With my _mind_. I was so angry. I wanted her to _suffer_ for trying to hurt you.”

“And I’d have cut her throat for hurting you, if she’d tried. Not as spectacular as the Force, but efficient all the same.”

Kylo laughed, but it was a broken sound. Hux wrapped his arms around Kylo’s broad shoulders and pulled him close.

Kylo’s whole body remained tense. “I thought the lightsaber would be the problem, but it isn’t. It’s _me_. I’m dangerous. I _could_ hurt you.”

“Ky, _I’m_ dangerous. I could kill you in your sleep.”

Kylo laughed, a proper laugh this time. “You probably could.”

“I won’t, though. Not this week. Apparently your mother approves of me, and I don’t want to get on her bad side yet. She’s the woman who killed Jabba the Hutt with her bare hands, if you want to talk _dangerous_. And she weighs about the same as one of your earrings.”

Kylo nuzzled into Hux’s hair, down his cheek.

“I am though,” he said softly, “Terribly dangerous. My mind is a weapon. Mother says you might teach me to control it better.”

“Does she now?”

“Yes.” Kylo kissed Hux softly, then rested his head on Hux’s shoulder. “I give myself into your hands. Make what you want of me.”

There was, behind the surrender, another _frisson_ of fear. Once upon a time, a man named Snoke had taken what Kylo now offered freely to Hux. Ruin had followed – but not _absolute_ ruin.

“Then you can be a shield.” Hux ran his fingers down Kylo’s back. He found the end of the braid and untied the gold cord. He kissed Kylo’s brow as he teased the braids apart at the end and began to unravel them.

Kylo wrapped his arms around Hux and held him tight. Hux loosed his Ky’s long hair and combed it with his fingers.

“I’ll protect you all my life,” Kylo murmured.

“And I’ll keep you safe, just like I promised,” said Hux.

He led Kylo from the refresher into the bedroom.

“I loved the way you danced for me,” he confessed, kissing Kylo’s chest and throat. “You were the only one worth looking at.”

 _*You were the only one worth dancing for*_ With a grin, Kylo raised his arms above his head, once more holding them in supple curves, and he began to dance. His big body swayed sinuously, torso bending one way, his hips tilting the other; knees bent and feet moving.

How could a man so large, so solid and powerfully built, move with such lissom grace? The trunk of him so broad, yet his body moved like a river, like slow-poured honey, like…

_*Like a tree?*_

_Yes, damn you. You grow out of the earth and move to the sky like a damned dancing tree._

_*Climb me again*_

_I’ve a better idea_.

Hux kissed and licked Kylo all over, touching him everywhere, caressing and tweaking and fondling and rubbing. In due course, he felled that splendid tree, sprawling him over the bed, and he crawled all over him, mouthing every precious part.

Hux spread Kylo wide and used his tongue, mouth and fingers between his legs to make him whimper and beg. Then Hux stretched out his willowy frame over Kylo’s and they held their naked bodies hard together, writhing and rutting. Kylo wrapped his legs around Hux’s waist while Hux pulled gently on Kylo’s hair. They came almost simultaneously with soft sighs.

Hux cleaned them up with a cloth, then cuddled in close. Kylo’s head was pillowed on Hux’s chest, his arm wrapped around Hux’s waist. Hux kissed the top of his head.

 _*Thank you for stopping me*_ said Kylo’s voice in his head, sleepy and grateful.

_Thank you for saving my life._

_*Of course. I’m your shield.*_

At the end of the bed, a tiny weight landed on the blanket and four paws walked up their legs ( _never walk on a mattress when there are humans to step on_ ) until Millicent plunked down on the dip of Kylo’s waist. She purred, washed herself, and fell asleep. But by then, Kylo and Hux were also breathing deeply.


End file.
